I Always Have a Plan, John
by DharmaGirl07
Summary: A oneshot looking into Ben's mind on the journey to the temple in "Dead is Dead," season 5. How many times does he have to tell John? He always has a plan. Rated T for mild, brief language. Feedback is always appreciated!


Ben stared acidly at the back of John Locke's bald head. He noticed, with a perverted satisfaction, that it was shining with sweat from the exertion of travelling at a brisk pace through the jungle. He was thoroughly annoyed. It was bad enough that he had to come back to the Island, after he had been specifically banished, albeit through protecting it, because John was too incompetent to bring them all back. Ben knew Locke prided himself on being righteous and honest, but he was just deluding himself. There had been plenty of times when he had been devious, or done things from which other men would recoil. _Boone was a sacrifice the Island demanded_. Yes, John, I understand that, but do realize that this is only the beginning, Ben thought. How will you feel if you're the next sacrifice the Island demands? John turned, with a satisfied smile pasted on his face. Smug bastard, Ben shot at him mentally.

"C'mon, Ben – keep up."

Ben sent him an impassive expression in return. No matter how much he was boiling on the inside, he wanted John to continue to be perfectly oblivious. It would help him much better in the long run if his companion suspected nothing. Their third travelling partner, whom Ben almost forgot about in his personal hell, also shot him a glance. He returned a slightly more open and hopeful look in Sun's direction. Ben knew firsthand that she was not one to be underestimated. Unlike Locke, she too knew well how to hide her true emotions and motives, springing at her hapless prey without them ever having an inkling that she was after them. He had an unpleasant peach-sized bump on the back of his head to prove his theory. Annoyed with himself for temporarily forgetting her potential as a threat, Ben clenched his teeth and redoubled his powers of strategy. The answer was simple: he only needed to kill John Locke.

"I think we ought to take a five-minute break," John announced, turning and looking benevolently at what Ben could only assume he thought were his "charges". He arched a skeptical eyebrow, but sat down without comment. At his side, Sun sank onto a rock and sighed.

"How much further, John?" she asked, impatient to get on her way back to her husband.

"Ben?" John turned to his murderer with mock innocence. Ben stared him down with cold eyes.

"Not much further, Sun," he answered, giving the woman a reassuring smile. She sent a faint smile in his direction, and promptly focused her attention on her hurting feet. He still had it – a power over others, no matter how slight.

After a few minutes longer, the three travelers arose and began their trek again. Ben let his thoughts wander. He still couldn't understand why John hadn't tried harder to bring the Oceanic 6 back to the Island. All he had done was go and ask them to return. When they refused, like they naturally would when faced with such a horrific concept, he simply gave up. He tried once and failed; thus, it cannot be done. There is no way it will work out. Ben scoffed. John gave up so easily. Where would he, Benjamin Linus, be had he given up so easily? Time and again, he had been confronted with seemingly impossible situations, like convincing Jack to operate on his tumor or outwitting Charles Widmore once more, and he had always found some kind of solution. How many times did he have to tell John? He always had a plan. This time was no exception. All he had left to work out were the details. Perhaps an accident with a cliff would be timely. He could lure Locke away from Sun, asking to talk to him in private, then knock him out somehow and push him off a cliff. Then he could run screaming back to Sun in a panic, pretending that John had taken a bad step. She might suspect something, but how hard could it be for him to convince her that he was not at fault? When he wanted to be, he could be a fine actor. In the middle of his musings, a thought occurred to him.

"May I ask a question, John?" He continued to tread carefully. An easy way to avoid arousing suspicion was to keep up the façade of politeness he so carefully cultivated.

"Shoot," John answered, not bothering to turn around to face his questioner. Ben twitched involuntarily. Politeness ought to be returned with politeness.

"How is it you know where you're going?" He confessed to himself that the question had been bothering him.

"I just know." Ah, well, thank you, John, that clears up everything.

"Well, how does that work, exactly?" Ben shot back at him.

"How does what work?" So he decided to play it stupid. Either that or he was just stupid.

"The knowing. Did it come upon you gradually or did you wake up one morning suddenly understanding the mysteries of the universe?" Damn. He hadn't wanted it to come out quite like that. Maybe he was slipping. Still, he could turn this to his advantage.

"You don't like this, do you?"

"What?"

"Having to ask questions that you don't know the answers to. Blindly following someone in the hopes that they'll lead you to whatever it is you're looking for."

John saw with satisfaction that Ben looked annoyed and taken aback. He felt the full blow of the honesty of his words.

"No, John, I don't like it at all."

"Well, now you know what it was like to be me."

Must this man keep asking and answering mundane, pointless questions? And yet, Ben realized this turn of events favored his plan. Despite himself, he felt a little lighter. John would be so pleased by extracting some kind of sick revenge from Ben that he wouldn't notice the other man's conspiracies against him.

"We should keep moving," Sun chimed in. Ah, Sun. Again, Ben had almost forgotten about her. She had a knack for blending into the scenery that he was absolutely certain she had used to her advantage quite a few times.

"Yes, we should," John replied. The little leader of the expedition sure did feel important.

A few short minutes later, they arrived at the temple. Ben's heart began beating faster, but he steeled himself. Not like he had a choice in the matter. He turned to Sun.

"If you ever get off this Island and see Desmond Hume, tell him I'm sorry."

Sun wrinkled up her forehead in confusion.

"Sorry about what?"

Ben gulped imperceptibly.

"Trust me, he'll know."

Locke raised his eyebrows at Ben, trying to simultaneously feign nonchalance, inquire innocently about Desmond, and indicate that they should really get going now. Ben's eyes narrowed. No matter what happened down underneath that temple, if he came out alive, he would kill John Locke.


End file.
